


Wrists Like Steel

by ohsnapCiera



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Late game spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 01:12:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11430075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohsnapCiera/pseuds/ohsnapCiera
Summary: Safety is in the keeping of a secret.





	Wrists Like Steel

The day Noctis asked him to become an official memeber of the Crownsguard, Prompto swore he wouldn’t get caught up in his own head. Noct trusted him enough to put his safety in Prompto’s hands- that could be enough. He needed to focus, to fight, to protect. He would leave the old Prompto behind in Insomnia, would strive to be the guard his friend and prince deserved.

Now, though, the rain is pounding down on the hard top of the Regalia and Prompto can’t stop shaking. It started with cracking knuckles as they left Lestallum and progressed into full body shivers, bad enough that Ignis acknowledged his quaking with a raised eyebrow.

He turns in his seat, clutching at the leather to quell shaking enough to speak. His jaw is tight but he manages to sound casual as he addresses Noctis.

“Hey, man, I’m beat. How about pulling over for the night?”

Noct agrees with a sleepy wave of his hand and Ignis pulls over, parking the car for a refuel and wipe-down. He follows Gladio to the diner, Noctis browses the shop for new fishing gear, and Prompto books it to their motel room hoping a few moments alone will be enough to collect himself.

It had been an encounter with an airship full of MTs that did it- the battle had been routine in every way. Swish, swish, stab and it was over almost before it began. Gladio had apparently been feeling a little more heated about their enemy; instead of continuing on, he took an extra moment to kick the helmet from the head of a broken armored body and spat on the ground next to it.

“Good riddance,” he’d grumbled, not far from Prompto. “Inhuman, the whole lot of ‘em. Made to be disposable.”

_Made to be disposable._

The words bounced around his head the rest of the day, ringing in his ears; a truth he always knew but never wanted to face. He was different from his friends and always would be. If they ever found out the truth he would be cast aside just as easily as Gladio had kicked that helmet away. He could never tell them.

But how long would he be able to shoulder this secret alone?

He paces the room, back and forth from the door to the far wall, boots as heavy as the ball of lead that seems to have settled in his stomach. Each pass feels just a bit shorter, walls closing in as he fidgets- fingers through his hair, hands flexing as he swings his arms. Prompto can’t even sit still long enough to clean his gun, the ritual usually enough to bring him back to himself, but it feels impossible. Everything feels too far beyond him.

_Made to be disposable._

His feet carry him from the room and somehow up to the motel’s roof. The air outside is heavy in his lungs, thick from heat and the recent rainfall. It smells clean, though; fresh- a welcome change from the stagnant, suffocating air of the room he’d escaped. He takes it in by the mouthful, trying to calm his racing heart as he settles cross-legged, hands gripping his knees.

From the top of the building Prompto feels like he can see forever. Beyond the harsh lights of the outpost, the world is bathed in the moon’s glow, dream-like in its serenity. It looks calm, peaceful. Harmless. He knows better, though; knows the danger that lurks in a false sense of security.

He snorts at the almost-poetry his wandering mind spins. Of course Prompto knows about danger lying in wait, just under the surface of something that feels safe.

He straightens at the sound of familiar foot steps, already fixing a convincing smile in place. He’s stopped shaking and for now that’s enough.

_Made to be disposable._

As Noctis appears, Prompto renews the vow he made before he left the city: protect his friend in whatever way he can, prove himself worthy of the trust placed in him. In this instance, safety would be in the keeping of a secret.

For his sake- and for the sake of the crown prince and his journey- he could bear this burden alone.

A small sacrifice for the greater good.


End file.
